Encounters Version A
by everything ecstatic
Summary: Sam and Dean are in D.C. and begin following a mysterious figure- story better than sum. Part of the Encounters series but you don't have to have read anything in the series. T because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N! Hi again. I hope you guys read version B. If not, I'll fill you in: So this is one of those things where before you go to sleep, you get weird ideas, and I thought,** _ **What if I created an OC and she met the Winchesters?**_ **I planned to base the OC on myself as per usual,** **but then I thought** _**what if she was a warlock?**_ **But I liked the other version too, and another one I'll reveal to you soon, so I decided to do all three. I've only seen Season one, so this is probably a slight AU, but whatever. This is version A. They all have roughly the same intro, with a hooded figure watching, though I changed it up a bit in version C. I'll continue whichever one gets the most love. Enjoy!**

"Sam, I don't think he went down here," Dean called ahead, his voice echoing across the arched sewer walls.

"No, I swear I saw him. He's here, just keep looking." Sam said, scanning the ground. Previously that day, they'd been in some motel in Washington, D.C. trying to find some answers and Sam had seen, from a window, a hooded figure standing on the street, staring up at them. He hadn't seen a face, but the person was definitely watching them. It was the same figure he'd seen before near the Impala, and later when they checked inventory, they were missing two pistols and seven throwing knives. Sam had profiled the character from the window: Probably a man, though a woman could also wear a man's hoodie and jeans. Small, maybe a teen, wiry body. From the window sighting, Sam and Dean had attempted to give chase by flanking him from both sides, but he'd mysteriously disappeared, according to Sam, into the sewer.

Dean crouched next to his brother, who was checking the ground for hints of another being's presence. Dean then abruptly jumped into the air, narrowly missing the foot sweeping where his feet had been. He whirled around, leveling his shotgun at the figure, who was wearing ripped jeans and a dark hoodie, which shielded the face from Dean's eyes. Dean fired, but the figure dodged him, then charged as Dean reloaded, kicking out at his stomach. Dean dropped the gun and grabbed the attacker's foot, but it snapped up its other foot, twisting in midair, landing a blow to Dean's face. Dean twisted with him, keeping his grip, at least until the assailant started forward, using said grip to hoist itself up and over Dean's head. However, Sam was behind Dean and intercepted him, flipping the hood off and grabbed its wrists, pinning them to the sewer wall. Looking at the finally caught hoodie guy, Sam realized that it never had been a man. It was a girl, a teen, with almond-colored hair that was back in a messy braid, with little pieces of hair everywhere. Her muscles tensed against Sam, but he was stronger.

"Dean, legs!" he muttered as his brother complied, grabbing her ankles to keep her from kicking out at them.

"Who are you? How do you know us? What do you want?"

The girl sighed. "Blayze, I have ways issues, to help." She answered. That was a bit more straightforward than Sam had been expecting.

"What kind of issues? If you're here to help, why did you attack us?"

"Your kind of issues, and to prove I'm an asset."

"An asset? Why do you want to prove that?"

"Like I said, I want to help." With that, she twisted her hands out of Sam's and grabbed his neck in a choke hold.

"Dean, let go," she said as he glared, "I think you'll find my offer rather hard to refuse." Dean stared with no facial expression, but the anger in his eyes was infinite.

"Fine."


	2. Chapter 2

"So what reason do you have for wanting to hunt with us?" Sam asked Blayze, who was opening the back door of the Impala. As she got in, she answered.

"A friend of mine died unnaturally. She was found in her apartment, dead, eyes wide open and blood red. That's just the thing, though; her eyes were red, but there was no blood. There wasn't any sign that she was dead, but her heart had stopped. When I left home, my parents gave me John Winchester's number, saying that his area of expertise was things that were unnatural, like my friend's death. I called and got voicemail, telling me to call Dean. I didn't expect two of you, but the more, the merrier. I want to hunt because I have a score to settle with all the evil in the world, all the things that do _this_ to people's lives."

Dean started the car.

"Someone's dramatic," he muttered from the front seat as they took off.

"Shut up," Sam replied, then turned back to Blayze. Upon getting a better look at the person who'd had him in a choke hold a few minutes ago, he could see some of her features that he hadn't noticed before. She had a mass of dark brown hair, thrown carelessly into a braid on the right side, following the direction of her bangs. Her eyes were the same dark color as her hair, but more noticeably there was a huge scar starting on her forehead and slashing diagonally to just above her right eye. Sam immediately decided not to ask, and quickly changed the subject.

"You really don't have anything to stay here, no one to miss you? No friends?"

"No boyfriend?" added Dean. Blayze rolled her eyes.

"I had a friend. Then she died. There was one guy, but no, I won't be missed." Sam nodded, not pressing any further. He turned back to his brother.

"Dean, where are we headed?"

"I was considering this one before the D.C. call. There's renovation at this house in Maryland, and so far seven construction workers are dead because of 'accidents'" he did air quotes, "things falling, people _accidentally_ falling into abnormally deep ditches, that sort of thing. I'm thinking it's our kind of problem." Blayze and Sam nodded. Blayze yawned.

"Alright, don't try to kill me in my sleep. I'm armed." With that she stretched out on the seat, placed her backpack on the ground, and closed her eyes.

0o0o0o00o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We already rented the motel rooms." Blayze sat up, immediately alert.

"Rooms, right? Plural? 'Cause if not-" Her voice was dangerously low.

"Woah, chill, we got two, ok? One for us, one for you. And, ah, you said something earlier about you being armed? What do you have?" Blayze sighed and reached into the inside pocket of her denim jacket, pulling out a wicked-looking curved knife.

"Silver-tipped, got a lot more more where that came from. You'd be surprised at how much this thing can hold," she said, re-inserting the knife and getting out of the car, slinging her backpack over her left shoulder. Dean nodded at her.

"We'll crash here later, after we get some info on the house. You stay here. 3A," he said, tossing a key at Blayze, which she caught easily. Dean started to go around the car to the driver side, but Blayze held out a hand and stopped him.

"Wait. You're leaving here with your car, and all your supplies. How do I know you won't just leave me here? I need some kind of insurance, something you wouldn't leave here without." Dean paused, in thought. Sam sighed, reached into Dean's pocket, and handed Blayze a small brown journal. Dean looked incredulously at Sam.

"We can't give her the journal! That's-" Sam silenced him with a look that said _exactly._ Dean sighed. "Alright. Let's head down to the construction site." He looked at Blayze pointedly.

"Don't you _dare_ lose that."


End file.
